In Their Shadows
by TheProfDoc
Summary: It wasn't just the Division agents. There were others. This story follows detective first grade Donnie Marks, a member of the Joint Task Force-New York, as he tries to uncover the mysteries of the Dollar Flu Pandemic and survive against humanity's worst enemy: itself. New York City's streets couldn't have been colder.
1. The Beginning

NYPD 14th(Midtown South) Precinct

Donnie was one with the pencil. Its sharp, thick piece of lead was aimed at a 45-degree angle towards an empty cup of morning joe. He slid another pencil underneath and perpendicular to the first one, creating a little catapult contraption he loved to construct every now and then just to annoy his partner. After taping part of a staple to his end of the pencil and placing a small, crumpled piece of his notebook in the area between the staple's two prongs, he eyed his partner inconspicuously. He rotated the pencil catapult to the left a little, and with a quick drop of his fist on the eraser end, the piece of paper went flying into the eye of the 28-year-old, 124-pound detective third grade who sat in front of him. He put down the case file he was looking at while rubbing his left eye. His face was a deep shade of red.

"Fuck you Marks!" He fumed. "That was the third time this week!"

Donnie remarked sarcastically. "Charlie if you had any sense of humor, you'd be detective second grade by now"

"Marks I might as well charge you with repeated assaults against a police officer you piece of white shit." He retorted.

"Look all I tried to do was insert some humor into that miserable thing you call your life"

Just as Donnie said that, a black, female officer dropped off a case file on his desk, marked "Classified".

"The hell is this?" Marks asked with an annoyed tone to his voice.

"It's direct from One PP." She said proceeding to walk away. "that's all I know honey."

Marks flipped open the soft, manila cover revealing several documents pertaining to Dr. Gordon Amherst. We had put surveillance on him after his speech at some campus, raising several red flags especially after the Dark Winter exercises. Donnie had read some of Amherst's work before, as he was an avid enthusiast of learning. Like many others, he was outraged at Amherst's dark, radical mentality yet could understand his motives and various viewpoints. Apparently, the NYCP had lost sight of Amherst three days ago.

"Wow… we're in the deep shit now." Donnie said skimming through the case notes. "One step away from a real life Dark Winter."

"Yup, sounds 'bout right" Charlie agreed. "What'cha think Donnie?"

"Let's go catch this son of a bitch." Donnie said with a grin. "I know where his apartment is."

Both men stood up, holstering their Glock 19s and putting on their business coats. Heading down the stairs to the outside of the precinct station they raced towards their vehicle. Their black, unmarked Dodge Charger was parked on a sidewalk nearby. Snow began to fall lightly. Marks got in first, turning on the police radio with Charlie following close behind him.

"Damn Marks you got a head start!" Charlie panted as he ducked his head down to get in the vehicle. Marks ignored him, only talking into

Donnie shifted the gear to drive once Charlie got into his seat, and the car lurched forward and onto the lane as he stepped on the peddle.

15 minutes later

Donnie turned the left blinker on. The traffic was terrible as per usual, and Charlie was fast asleep with his head leaning against the passenger window. Donnie admired the beauty of the city, especially its vastness. Those gigantic buildings near Times Square made him feel so small, and he debated in his head whether that was good or bad. He turned left around a nearby gas station, the apartment complex was within sight.

Then suddenly the car halted, causing Charlie to jerk forward violently and papers to fly everywhere. An eight-year-old girl was holding the hood of the car, a confused look on her face.

"The fuck?" Charlie, who was now awake and agitated, punched Donnie's shoulder. "You almost killed her! Where'd you get your license? India?"

The mother of the girl ran up to her, pulling her away from the street and checking if she's okay. Upon seeing this Donnie began to bang his head against the steering wheel, the loud honking of the vehicle attracted pedestrians who soon began to take videos. Charlie pat Donnie's shoulder before getting out of the vehicle to deal with the other people.

The father of the girl tapped on the driver's seat window, a furious look on his face. Donnie opened the door, getting up and facing the dad who was around 4 inches taller than he was. He had a thick, but short beard and he was wearing a plaid shirt with slate jeans.

"Listen sir, this was clearly an accident, and now one was hurt." Donnie reasoned. "Why don't we all walk away from this peacefully."

The father exploded, shoving Donnie back a little. "You listen here you SON OF A BITCH. You almost killed my daughter! Why don't you LOOK where you're driving, huh? You really New York's finest?"

"Sir, I'm gonna need you to get your hands off of me" Donnie ordered.

"What if I don't wanna huh? Come on you and me, you PIG. You wanna kill my daughter? Guess who's gonna return the favor!" The father was fuming.

The father attempted to head-butt the experienced detective but was countered by an elbow swing to the face, forcing him to stumble backwards. Donnie took this opportunity to tackle him to the ground and to lay him on his stomach. While he was on the ground, Donnie climbed onto his back and pulled both of his arms together. He then grabbed the handcuffs from the back of his belt, slapping it on his wrists. Afterwards, he pulled him up and proceeded to slam him on the hood of his Dodge Charger.

"Assaulting a police officer like that is a class D felony in the state of New York." Donnie explained as he patted him down. "You got any weapons?"

The father flipped him off despite his incapacitation. Sighing, Donnie finds and opens the man's wallet, seeing his ID.

"Sit tight..." Donnie squinted as he looked at his name. "Travis..."

Charlie ran up to Donnie, a look of doubt and concern easily discernable on his face.

"What's wrong Charles?" Donnie asked. "Simple APO collar, anything I did wrong?"

"No Marks," Charlie argued, sympathetic to the father. "But come on, you almost killed this guy's daughter. And now you're doing this in front of her?"

Donnie looked at the child crying profusely on the sidewalk, the mother desperately trying to calm her down. He then looked at the father, who had stopped squirming and was now lying their silently. Would he really do this to the family? After deep contemplation, Donnie unlocked the handcuffs.

"Get outta' here." Donnie muttered. "Don't make me think twice about my decision."

The father nodded, going back to his family and walking away. The mob of people soon left the scene to do whatever they were doing prior to the incident or to follow the family. The two detectives looked at each other and then looked at the large apartment complex in front of them.

"Charlie park the Charger," Donnie said while walking toward the gate, the ends of his coat flapping in the wind. Charlie nodded, and he ran over to the car, moving and parking it parallel to the edge of the sidewalk.

Inside Amherst's Apartment

"The hell is this?" Donnie said appalled. The blackboard paint on the walls had equations written all over them in chalk. Books and papers were littered across the floor. The window was open, with the curtains waving in the breeze.

Charlie was looking at several centrifuges and vials filled with viral specimens. "Is our guy fucking Lex Luther?"

Donnie had put on some latex gloves, eyeing a drawer with several glasses of beer. The amount of beer in each glass varied dramatically. He picked one up, observing the temperature: cold.

"It's still cold." He deduced. "Left very recently. Tell forensics to get prints on those."

As Charlie nodded, the bathroom door burst open, and a figure cloaked in a black hood emerged aiming a .38 revolver at Charlie and firing causing him to collapse onto the rug. The figure then shoved Donnie to the ground and proceeded to jump out of the open window and onto the roof of another building.

Donnie stared in horror as blood poured out of his partner's abdomen, staining the rug from green to a dark shade of red.

"G-Go... kill that son of a bitch..." Charlie muttered. "I-I'll be f-fine..."

Donnie screamed into the radio "I need a bus over here at the apartments at the corner of 23rdand 15th! And put a fucking rush on it!"

He gripped his dying partner's hand before jumping out of the window to pursue the suspect. Covering his eyes from the blinding sun, he surveyed the area. He found the suspect climbing up a ledge to a higher part of the roof.

"Stop!" He screamed while drawing his gun. "Stop! NYCP! Son of a bitch!"

He fired 3 shots at the fleeing suspect, and he saw the figure stumble slightly before successfully climbing the ledge and limping away.

He was wounded.

Donnie sprinted toward him, jumping over hedges, chairs, and AC ventilators. The cold, morning breeze hit his face to the point where it hurt. Pushing through, he reached the ledge the suspect had climbed. He stepped back and then ran forward pushing his foot up and grabbing onto the top of the ledge. Letting go of his firearm, he hoisted himself up just to see the suspect enter a fire escape.

He yelled again. "STOP! NYCP!"

Getting up, he sprinted towards the fire escape, swinging himself around he lunged at the suspect limping down the steel stairs.

They collided into the railing, with the suspect almost toppling over the edge. Donnie grabbed the suspect's back and then slammed him onto the floor of the fire escape. Turning his head to the side, Donnie took off the suspect's hood. Taking out a picture of the fugitive scientist, he compared both of their faces.

It wasn't Amherst.

Hoisting him up and dragging him to a secluded area of the rooftop, he started his interrogation. The wailing sirens of arriving emergency personnel echoed in Donnie's ears. He had handcuffed the suspect to a nearby railing.

"Tell me who the fuck you are" He aimed at the man's head. "Or it's bye-bye world for you, you son of a bitch."

"I-I can't… he'll kill them… I can't… I- "

"Who's he? You work for Amherst?" Donnie raised his voice. "Who's them...?"

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck" The suspect screamed in frustration.

"We got witness protection for a reason dumbass, whatever you got you better fucking spill." The detective negotiated. "Or you could take the second way out." He pushed his pistol into the man's forehead.

The man sighed, defeated and broken. "My bag... check my bag... on the fire escape..."

Donnie ran to the fire escape. The bag was dangling off the ledge, and he snatched it off searching its contents. Finding a note, he read it carefully.

Stores:

-Broadway Emporium

-Bergdorf Goodman

-Bloomingdale's

-Pharmacies

-Fast Food Stores

Distribute dollar bills evenly through each store. Give some to beggars, I don't care. Just make sure people get them. If I find out that the job is not done, your family will be killed slowly and painfully. I expect it done by the end of today.

-GA

Donnie dug through the backpack further, discovering a jar with stacks of dollar bills within it. A post-it note labeled it as "Bloomingdale's". He frantically searched the backpack for the other jars but couldn't find them. A gunshot rang out sending Donnie running back to the man's location clutching the note and the jar. When he arrived, he found his corpse on the ground, a blood splatter on the wall behind him. A hole can be seen on his forehead, with a thin vapor rising out of it.

"Fuck…" Donnie leaned against the wall with his head to his palms. "I'm so stupid…"

ESU units had moved onto the roof in heavy body armor, armed with M4A1 carbines they began to sweep the rooftop. An ESU officer turned the corner and found the distraught detective and the corpse of the man surrounded in his own blood. Donnie had been staring at the jar of dollar bills on the ground, pondering its implications.

"Identify yourself!" The ESU officer yelled, aiming his carbine at the detective.

"It's fine… NYCP..." He shined his detective's badge. "Got the shield to prove it."

The officer lowered his carbine. "Sorry 'bout that." He said apologetically. "And uh… sorry 'bout your partner. Medics got him in critical condition last I heard."

"Fuck…" Donnie muttered to himself. The news hit him like a bullet to the gut.

Another man turns the corner along with an NYCP lieutenant. He was dressed in a white collared shirt, red tie, and khakis. Donnie immediately notices his interest in the jar.

The lieutenant spoke first. "Donnie, this is Special Agent Luke Farris… FBI. He will be taking over the investigation."

Donnie stood up outraged. "The Feds? Come on lieutenant… you know better! They're gonna screw everything up!"

"Sorry Marks, but this comes straight from the White House." The lieutenant replied, clearly agitated. "Now you better comply or that shield is mine."

The FBI agent calmly, but with a slight sarcasm. "The investigation is in good hands, detective…"

"Good hands my ass…" Donnie bickered. "My partner is lying on a fucking operating table because of this case lieutenant! At least let me finish it!"

"Sorry Donnie, my hands are tied as of now." The lieutenant said sympathetically. "You can take it up with the Commissioner."

"We need to get to the bottom of this," Donnie warned. "Or people will die."

The FBI agent assured him. "Don't worry, we'll get this guy. You have my word."

Donnie nodded reluctantly and walked away. As he approached the door to the apartment, he could see men in DCD hazard suits wandering around the apartment.

"The hell's going on?" Donnie wondered, clutching the note in his hand.


	2. Intial Stages

**AN:**

 **Heyo! This is TheProfDoc. Yeah, the Division community here is pretty dormant, but I really want to continue this story to its fullest extent. If someone is reading this, I hope you enjoy and leave your feedback. This is my first story on this site too! I do not own Tom Clancy's The Division, that honor goes to Ubisoft and supporting developers. I simply added my own characters and reworked some of the lore. Note the previous chapter and most of this one occurred before the initial outbreak!**

 **14** **th** **Precinct Midtown Manhattan South**

 **11:15 AM**

Donnie stared at the empty desk in front of him. Charlie had bled to death on the operating table several hours after he had been shot. He had to personally deliver the news to his wife and two kids who lived in Flatiron district. The drive to and from their apartment was one of the worst he had ever experienced, and Charlie was the first partner he had ever lost. His replacement was still "pending".

He looked out the window to his left, the snow was beginning to fall, and frost started to appear around its edges. Flu season had begun early and seemed particularly vicious this week. Looking around his office space, he had noticed earlier that several of his coworkers were missing. When he inquired with the lieutenant, he said they had all called in sick.

The note he had kept from the apartment had been shoved into his desk, lost to the 5 new homicide cases he had picked up. He figured the dollar bills were part of some obscure laundering scheme Amherst partook in. But there was no time to dwell on the past, the latest homicide was that of a 16-year-old female. Donnie deduced it as a robbery as the victim's wallet and purse was gone. When he asked her parents where she was going, they said she was getting prescription anti-virals for her brother, who had come down with a rather severe case of the flu. The anti-virals were not on her corpse. In fact, there was a staunch increase in drug-related robberies this past week, especially with anti-virals. Of course, Donnie knew there would always be an increase in these types of crimes during flu season, but this was triple what it was last year.

An officer tapped Donnie's shoulder. TARU was done with the CCTV camera that had witnessed the crime.

"Alright let's see." Donnie sighed, getting up from his swivel chair and following the officer.

They entered the TARU room. It was quite cramped, with monitors on walls and on desks, and wires protruding from walls. The TARU technician with the footage was a young fellow, around 23. His thick brown hair hung in patches over his eyes. His face was plagued with acne. Donnie could've sworn he saw him in the Narcotics holding cell.

"Alright, start it up." Donnie said to the technician making a rolling movement with his fingers.

The footage shows the girl walking out of the ROW's Pharmacy on 22nd street clutching a brown paper bag with the anti-virals presumably. She turns a left walking down the sidewalk towards a nearby bus stop. As she reaches the end of the pharmacy's front wall, a man turns the corner trying to grab the paper bag. The bag soon rips, the drugs falling onto the ground. The girl attempts to push the assailant back and was successful in making him stumble back. Once stabilized, attacker drew a revolver from his jeans and shot the girl 3 times as she tried to pick up the drugs. Her body flung back and hit the ground with a thud, and a pool of blood began to form underneath her corpse. The man stared at the corpse seemingly stunned, and then almost as quickly as he came, he stole the drugs and her wallet.

"Damn it." Donnie muttered while looking at the girl's lifeless body. "Why didn't you just run?"

What surprised him about the attack was that the man wasn't in the least bit trying to conceal his identity. He sported a red, tight-fitting T-shirt with the Vans logo in large letters on the front of the shirt. The man's blonde hair was ragged and messy, his eyes were bloodshot. What startled the detective the most was the severe number of rashes, blisters, and bumps that covered the body of the rather thin individual. He could tell the man was sweating profusely by looking at the shirt areas around the neck and the armpit.

"You got facial recognition on this perp?" Donnie asked the TARU technician, who was sipping a mug of orange juice.

"We're running him through the database now." The tech answered. "It'll probably be done in 30-45 minutes."

"Just call me when it's done."

"Alright man"

Donnie walked out of the room heading towards his desk. His stomach made a low, deep grumble. Looking at the clock, he determined it was time for a well-deserved lunch break. The snowing outside had gotten stronger, and the streets below were covered in a thick layer of white. He grabbed his winter trench coat off the back of his chair, putting it on. His ivy cap and golden badge soon completed the "detective getup" he always adored when he was a child.

As he looked for the keys to the charger he felt a light tap on his shoulder. Turning around he found a woman and Lieutenant Horton. The woman was around 2 inches shorter than him. Her hair was brown, and she had freckles scattered around her cheeks. She was clothed in full black business suit attire. Underneath her jacket, she wore a white buttoned up shirt, with a purple tie. The NYCP detective badge was clearly visible on her waist, and a feeling of dread bubbled up Donnie's stomach.

"Marks." Horton said with a smug grin on his face. "This is detective Baker, your new partner."

Baker held out her hand. "Pleasure to meet you detective."

Donnie shook the hand reluctantly, scoffing. "Hort, you've really done it this time."

"What's that supposed to mean detective?" Baker snapped, offended.

The gray-haired lieutenant shook his head, disappointed. "Whether you like it or not Marks, she's gonna be your partner."

Donnie looked at Baker and then looked back at the lieutenant, a look of staunch indignation on his face. "Fine… asshole"

With this, Horton wobbled over to his office, closing the door behind him, leaving the two detectives looking at each other.

"I heard you're the squad asshole." Baker mocked sarcastically. "Looks like the rumors were true."

Donnie chuckled at the title. "Yeah, I think that title belongs to the guy who just assigned you to me."

"Touché" Baker said, a smirk on her face.

"I'm uh… headed out to grab a bite." Donnie offered reluctantly. "We have a homicide, so you might as well tag along."

"Sounds good, boss." She said following him down the stairs.

 **Bryant Park, Midtown Manhattan**

 **12:02 PM**

"I'll take my regular, Vince." Donnie said to the hot dog vendor, then proceeding to blow into his cold hands.

It was around 30 degrees Fahrenheit, with the snow falling profusely. The slightest movement would cause the accumulated snow on top of his ivy cap to fall. He had wiped the snow on the shoulders of his trench coat to maintain its pristine condition. After around two minutes, the vendor had the hot dog in his hands. The bun had a fresh, soft texture. Vapor would rise from the freshly cooked meat, and evidence of the grill is clearly noticeable with the pattern of slight burn lines. A layer of mustard and ketchup would cover part of the top of the hot dog.

"Come to daddy." Donnie sputtered, handing the vendor the appropriate amount of money.

He proceeded to sit down on a nearby bench. Bryant park looked so beautiful in the winter. He admired the gigantic Christmas tree which stood firm, slightly obscuring his view of the New York Public Library. Skaters would glide across the ice, making intricate patterns that Donnie would have fun spotting. He took another bite of his hot dog, relishing its amazing, meaty taste. New York City was truly one of a kind.

"So, about that case…" Baker reminded him, sitting down with her hot dog. "What we got?"

"16-year-old Female, white" Donnie said, gnawing his meal. "Shot 3 times to the chest while trying to get meds for her ill brother."

"Yeesh, got any leads?" Baker responded, clearly startled at the gruesome details.

"Perp didn't even bother to hide his face." Donnie answered, finishing his hot dog. "TARU sending him through facial rec now."

Right after he said that, the detective's phone went off with ringtone as the song "Man On A Mission" by Tony C. Rummaging his pocket, Donnie pressed the designated answer button and then put the cellphone to his right ear.

"Tech," Donnie started, checking his watch. "Couple of minutes late."

"Yeah the blisters on his face really slowed down the progress." The TARU tech responded. "But we got a hit… Winston Recker, Bronx barber."

"I'm sensing a catch." Donnie said in a concerned manner, hoping the perp hadn't been compromised.

"Yeah, he was found dead in his apartment." The tech continued in a monotone manner. "Some viral infection. DCD is already looking into it."

The infuriated detective hung up. "God fucking damn it."

"Something wrong?" Baker inquired, having finished her hot dog. "Didn't sound like good news."

"Perp fucking died." Donnie seethed, pocketing his phone.

"So?" Baker reasoned. "Killer is dead, and the girl got justice. It sounds pretty good to me."

Donnie condensed his beliefs. "Proper justice can't be administered without a judge, jury, and a court. A perp needs to stand trial and serve his sentence, not be wasted before a victim's family could look at 'em one last time in the eye."

"Deep there, Marks." Baker said with a tone of doubt. "Sometimes doesn't work like that man. Not everything can be subject to the law."

Donnie wasn't listening, but instead was looking at the extensive line leading into a ROW's pharmacy and clinic across the street. He noticed the same blisters, blemishes, and bumps he had seen on the dead perp on most of the people in the line.

"Flu season is crazy huh?" He said, looking at the pharmacy.

Baker turned around, looking at the line of people. "Yeah, I think my mom's comin' down with the same thing."

"Something tells me it ain't Flu." Donnie realized, touching Amherst's note in his pocket.

 **2 Weeks Later**

 **Camp Hudson**

 **5:10 AM**

Donnie turned the heater on. Civilians were being shuffled through paths separated by 9-foot-high fences. They were ordered to assist New York National Guard and fellow NYCP units in the evacuation of non-infected civilians. Baker was operating the thermal scanner, their Charger stationed at one of the entrances.

"You heard about the JTF?" Baker mentioned, looking at the monitor at the dozens of civilians passing through the gate.

Donnie let out a laugh, turning the radio on. "JTF? The armed crossing guards? Of course it's headed by a cop from Narcotics! What is Benitez thinking letting a bunch of civilians play cops?"

"I mean I think it's nice that they're trying to help us out." Baker argued, still staring at the monitor. "I mean they could've just left or joined the others in looting. Cut them some slack, Marks."

Baker squinted at the monitor, seeing a yellow-orangish blip in the crowd of green. Speaking into her radio, she notified the DCD unit. "You guys got another one moving towards the gate." She looked up, eyeing the actual individual. "Black jacket with 'North Face' logo, slate jeans, wearing a purple satchel."

The DCD unit responded on the radio. "Thanks, intercepting now."

Two men suited in white, CERA-issued PPE suits approached the man, pushing and shoving through the crowd to get to his location. The two detectives watched the interaction from the safety of their parked Charger.

The infected man attempted to run back, pushing down other civilians in his way. The DCD units chased after him, with one of them eventually reaching the man. Just as the DCD hazmat grabbed the individual, a gunshot rang out, sending the crowd of people in a frenzy to get out. National Guardsmen guarding the gate slid under cover to avoid getting sniped. Another gunshot rang out, and the gunner of the Humvee stationed at the gate was slumped backward on top of the roof of the vehicle, a hole in his chest and a pool of blood clearly visible. More gunshots rang out as people frantically ran in all directions.

Donnie looked around at the buildings overlooking Camp Hudson's entrance. He saw muzzle flashes coming from a 4-story brick apartment building that included an Indian deli on the ground floor. Glancing back at Baker, both seemed to have the same idea in mind.

Donnie swung the door open, proceeding to take cover behind it. Bullets would ricochet off the door, making a loud ping sound that would make his ears ring. By now, Baker began shooting from her own door, drawing fire from sniper to her. Gripping his Glock 19, Donnie began his mad dash to the building. Seeing this, National Guardsmen and NYCP officers who had hid in cover from the attackers were now providing suppressive fire, pinning them down.

Donnie slammed into the brick wall of the Deli. Once he was secure, he signaled Baker to come over. The group of National Guardsmen and NYCP continued to suppress the gunmen in the building as Baker and 3 ESU officers ran across the street to support Marks. Donnie and Baker stacked up behind the 3 ESU officers, preparing to breach. The lead ESU officer fired his shotgun at the handle of the door, then proceeded to kick it down. They began to sweep the first floor.

"Clear!" yelled the ESU lieutenant.

The group stacked up near the stairs. Throwing in a flashbang, the three ESU officers rushed up the stairs followed by Donnie and Baker. As the ESU lieutenant reached the 2nd floor, a fire axe was swung into his side, and he crumpled to the floor, dying in seconds. A shield-wielding Cleaner stood over his corpse, breathing heavily into his mask.

"FUCK!" screamed one of the ESU officers. "Officer down! Officer down! We've got Cleaners!"

The officer fired his Mossberg into the Cleaner's shield, fracturing it into dozens of pieces. Discarding the handle, the cleaner swung the axe with the power of both of his arms. The officer barely blocked the swing by holding his shotgun at both ends, perpendicular to the orientation of the fire axe and sticking him in front of himself to absorb the blow. A second ESU officer fired a shot at the cleaner, the bullet piercing its head, killing it instantly. A second Cleaner opens the door of an apartment, spraying the Mossberg-wielding policeman with his AK-47. The fatally shot ESU officer stumbles back into a wall, slumping down. Donnie comes up behind the final, distraught ESU officer firing a shot at the at the attacking Cleaner with his Glock, piercing the gas tank attached to its back.

Screaming, the Cleaner attempted to unbuckle the tank, which was leaking gas profusely. Moments later, it was enveloped in a fiery explosion. A loud screeching sound can be heard as the floor above where the Cleaner was collapses onto his burnt corpse. As the floor above them begins to collapse as well, Donnie rushes towards the dead ESU officer slumped against the wall, carrying his corpse over his back. Baker begins to drag the second ESU corpse down the stairs.

Staying low to avoid smoke inhalation, Donnie, Baker, and the remaining ESU officer navigate the distraught deli on the first floor, stumbling around falling debris, broken chairs and tables. Reaching the door, they run out just as the building collapses behind them. The collapse caused a plume of dust to expand from the wrecked building causing them to be blown forward, making Donnie lose consciousness.

 **3 Minutes Later**

Opening his eyes, Donnie could feel a terrible throbbing pain in his head and a deafening ringing in his ears. The corpse of the ESU officer was still on top of him, forcing him to push it off in order to breathe. Baker was already up, being assisted by CERA medics. Soon she was put on a stretcher, soon losing sight of her as she was being rushed into the camp. Pushing himself up slowly, Donnie looked around at the numerous civilian and law enforcement corpses around him, 22 in total. Some were mangled up, their pale, bloated faces causing Donnie to break down, making him to collapse onto the ground once again. The ringing was getting louder, and soon all he could see was black.

 _The First Battle of Camp Hudson resulting 10 civilians KIA, 4 National Guardsmen KIA, 8 NYCP Officers KIA. 9 corpses of Cleaners were excavated from the rubble of the deli._

 **In the next chapter, we'll see the introduction of the First Wave SHD agents and the incident which caused the entire Last Man Battalion to be considered traitors. Donnie doesn't seem to be a fan of either.**


	3. SHDy People

**Author's Note:**

 **Hey agents… or JTF… or member of some other faction in NYC, this is another update to my story! Sorry for the delay, I'm actually writing this in an airport terminal. Vacations always ruin everything for me, and it sure isn't helping with writing. I have another flight in 3 days, so expect more delays. Note that I created a bit of my own Division lore in this chapter, so be weary. This is a particularly long chapter, so I hope you enjoy. Leave feedback and be sure to be hyped for The Division 2!**

 **-TheProfDoc**

 **Camp Hudson Medical Tent 22-B**

 **8:33 AM**

Donnie felt the bandages on his left hand and right upper arm. He had sustained minor burns during the attack, mostly from inside the building. He also had a minor concussion from his collapse. Baker was reading a magazine on the cot next to him, a bandage on her right forearm and around her left shoulder.

He turned his head to face his partner, a joke in mind. "So, what are you in for?"

"It's pretty bad." Baker chuckled, putting the magazine down. "Dragged a dead guy's corpse out of a building."

"Really? Fuck." Donnie said, a sarcastic tone in his voice. "Well I _carried_ a dead guy's corpse out of a building."

A solemn look soon dawned over their faces as they realized they were talking about their fellow fallen officers. Baker looked at a nearby JTF crate, a deep look of self-disappointment on her face.

Donnie looked at the plastic flaps where a CERA medic had just walked into the room, carrying a clipboard. His blue and black CERA uniform gave a paramedic-like appearance to Donnie. When CERA rolled into town, Donnie knew it would be bad, the virus had already killed hundreds of people by then, and even some officers in his precinct had been infected.

"You guys are being discharged." The medic said, relief washing over Donnie. He was already bored to death. "Lieutenant Horton's looking for you."

Donnie looked over at his partner, who responded with a quick nod. As the CERA medic left, Baker got up, adjusting her business coat and putting on her shoes which were left in front of her cot. Donnie soon got up doing the same, straightening out his trench coat and buttoning it up. Taking out a piece of cloth, he began to clean and shine his badge. Wiping off the edges, a large stain of blood develops on the cloth. Upon seeing this, Donnie drops the badge, staring at the badge on the floor.

"Problem partner?" Baker asked, clearly concerned. "Should I call the medic?"

Looking up a little embarrassed, Donnie quickly responded. "No, I'm fine, badge was slippery, that's all." He then proceeded to pick up his badge, pinning it to his belt. "You ready partner?"

Baker nodded, and they both exited the tent, walking towards the gate to the inner part of the camp. Donnie noticed one of the National Guardsmen guarding the gate out of the medical area, he was wearing a JTF reflective vest.

"Logan?" Donnie was startled by the vest. "What are you doing joining the crossing guard coalition?"

"Army pulled out yesterday." The guardsman responded. "They callin' us all JTF now, LT said to look the part."

"Bullshit." Donnie cursed, shaking his head. "We had it controlled! Why they pullin' out now?"

The guardsman shrugged, opening the gate for the two detectives.

"You have a good day detective," Logan said, sarcastically saluting him.

Scoffing, Donnie continued walking towards the command tent. Looking towards the decontamination area to Chesley, he saw several people holding military grade weapons and dressed in civilian clothing. He saw no badge, nor sign that they were part of the JTF. The only thing that signaled they were connected was a strange, bright orange circle on their wrists.

"What the fuck?" Donnie muttered to Baker. "They hiring mercs now? We really that deep into this?"

"I dunno'," Baker responded, lifting up the plastic flaps leading into the command tent. "I know as much as you, bud."

The tent itself was cramped, with people walking around constantly and computer monitors lining the walls and the desks. The monitors showed CCTV footage of various points around the city, giving the JTF very useful real-time information. In the center of the tent was a large table with maps, and tablets. Lieutenant Horton and another man stood by the desk, looking at the maps. The man was dressed like those he saw by the decontamination area and looked around 37. His hair was well combed for an apocalypse, giving him a suave sort of aura.

Walking over, Donnie spoke first. "Lieutenant, what the hell is happening? You got mercs in the camp with enough weaponry to put Afghanistan under martial law."

"Those aren't mercs." The lieutenant explained. "They're-"

"Strategic Homeland Division, New York." The man interrupted, holding his hand out. "Louis Chang, current Northeast Section Commander. We're sleeper cells designed to be activated during a catastrophic situation to ensure continuity of government necessary."

"First Wave?" Donnie retorted sarcastically. "Lieutenant what is this white vigilante... beanie wearing shit?"

Horton seemed to have a confused look. "Marks they're part of the feds. They supersede all my authority."

"Of course!" Donnie threw his hands up in the air. "The fucking feds with their own self-preservation plan."

"You should be happy, Donnie!" Horton argued, raising his voice. "We need all the help we can get! Especially after the army pulled out and they got us wearing these fucking things." He pointed to his JTF vest.

"Detective," Louis spoke with a firm, assertive voice. "You can trust me, and my people are doing everything we can to save this city. You know I only live 4 blocks from here?"

"Look Marks, you and Baker are one of our best detectives." Horton said, beginning his briefing. "So that's why we're sending both of you to Wall Street to help with a deteriorating situation."

"Wall Street?" Baker responded, intrigued with the location. "Isn't that PMC stationed there? The Last Man Battalion, I think that's its name."

"Yeah, you know that lunatic leader of theirs? That Bliss Guy?" Horton said, tossing a folder towards Donnie. "We've delegated one of the old NYCP negotiators to create a peace agreement with the LMB. I need you two on her security detail."

"Anyone else on the team?" Donnie asked, looking over the plans detailed in the folder. "The LMB's a pretty slick outfit to deal with."

"You'll have the support of Louis's team of SHD agents." Horton assured, handing him the roster. "JTF in the immediate area will possible provide tactical support if needed. A helo is standing by at the dock helipad."

"'Possibly provide'," Donnie said, pocketing a map of wall street into his pocket. "Anything else your dementia kept you from telling me?"

"Yeah actually you fucking asshole," Horton's angry eyes scanned over Donnie's trench coat. "New regulations on uniforms, you need the godforsaken vest visible when heading out. Friendly fire reasons. Dismissed, detective."

Flipping him off, Donnie turned around, navigating his way around the seemingly endless amount of JTF personnel in the tent. Ducking down through the flaps and exiting the tent, he squinted, finding the light from the morning sun blinding. Looking around, he saw CERA tents lined a large pathway leading to the exit to Chelsey. A memorial wall stood near the medical tents. Pictures, candles, flowers, letters and the American Flag hung over the wall, dedicated to the dozens of fallen servicemen. He stared at it, remembering the building collapse.

"We gotta' get going Donnie," The SHD commander reminded. "We're supposed to be there by 1200"

"Patience hotshot," Donnie responded, still pissed. "Why don't you meet up with your cell of your federal agent dingbats at the helo. Baker and I still need to pick up our crossing guard vests."

"Look detective," Louis spoke with a much more serious tone, seeing an underlying problem with their relationship. "It'll take some time to believe it. But what me and my fellow agents are doing right now is for the ultimate good of the city. Whether you believe it or not will not change anything, nor affect what we do. We got a mission to accomplish, so why don't you suck it up and do your fucking job."

Donnie stormed off towards the quartermaster tent, Baker following close behind him. His hands were rolled up in fists, his trench coat flapping as the frigid. New York wind pushed against him.

"Ultimate good of the city my ass," Donnie attempted to mimic Louis's voice. "suck it up, do your fucking job." Looking back at Baker, he continued his rant. "He's wearing a leather jacket, jeans, a beanie, and a fucking go-bag to a warzone expecting to restore order and save the city. What the fuck? Is this a Disney TV set? No, people are dying, good people. The feds… they don't know what we've been through, and now they're pulling this bullshit. A fucking CLASSIC."

They arrived at the quartermaster tent, the inside neatly lined with rifles, shotguns, carbines, SMGs, and pistols. A JTF officer was sitting down on a patio chair taking inventory of ammunition. Donnie knew him well, they had been in the same class during Police Academy. His real name was Jeffery Robvinsiloj, but Donnie just called him "Gus."

"Hey Donnie!" Gus yelped in his thick Jamaican accent. "What can I get you today, my friend?"

"Hey Gus, I need two of those JTF vests." Donnie sighed, looking at the rack lined with them. "Lieutenant said I looked too badass, so he said I needed to balance it out. Also, need one for my partner."

The weary quartermaster laughed heartily, turning around and grabbing two vests of the rack. "Alright buddy, here you go." He handed it to Donnie, the detective looking at it in disgust. "And here's one for the missus." He said, throwing it to Baker.

"Thanks Gus," Baker said, catching the vest. "Don't mind Donnie, he's just mad about, well, everything."

"Yah, he had to go take an anger management seminar during Academy. I video taped the whole fucking thing." Gus cackled, picking up the clipboard he had dropped.

"Shut the hell up Gus," Donnie retaliated, taking off his trench coat. "Don't make me mention that extra sexual harassment seminar the CO 'advised'."

"Forget I said anything," Gus grinned, looking at Baker and then proceeding to give Donnie the stink-eye.

Donnie chuckled, putting his head through the middle hole of the vest, then extending his arms through their designated sockets. He thumped his chest once, securing the Kevlar vest underneath. Once this was done, he pinned his detective's badge to the right side of his chest completing the standard JTF look.

"You wanna' race?" Baker challenged, pinning the badge to her waist. "I'll gladly beat your sorry ass."

"You don't know who you're messing with Baker," Donnie chuckled, checking his Glock. "But okay, I'll do it to show who will be dominant in any cardio exercise in the future."

"Bullshit, Marks." Baker said, bending her knees to get into a starting posture. "You know, I was the best runner on my high school track team."

"I've caught 275 perps," Donnie said mockingly. "I'm sure I can beat some overgrown schoolgirl in a suit."

The two eyed the large CERA decontamination tent leading to the dock. Donnie counted began counting down from 10.

"10… 9… 8… 7…" Donnie counted, a medical Humvee passed by, snow jetting out from its wheels as it rolled towards the repair area. The ground was covered in the stuff, half an inch thick.

"6… 5… 4… 3…" A flock of birds passed overhead, and two CERA medics rolled a gurney behind the two detectives.

"2… 1…" Donnie yelled, the two running forward towards the decontamination tent. Baker had the lead at first, with around half a foot being the difference between the two. After around 10 seconds they arrived at the entrance to the tent. With a burst of speed, Donnie took the lead, narrowly avoiding a collision through the UV checkpoint. Making a sharp turn, they entered the field laboratory hallway. Two scientists were rolling a cart filled with saliva samples from one room to another, making an obstruction in the detective's path.

"Outta the way!" Donnie yelled, leaping over the tray and miraculously not causing any spills. The scientists stumbled back, giving Baker enough room to slip around the cart.

Running out of the tent, Donnie could eye the helicopter around 500 feet ahead of him. The merry-go-round was to the left, with a couple of JTF soldiers having a conversation near the stairs to the ride. Looking back, he saw Baker was closing in fast sprinting faster in an attempt to compensate after the cart. She was clearly an avid runner, clearly a better match for Donnie than Charlie.

Suddenly, Charlie's last words rung in Donnie's ears.

" _I'll be fine"_

The 5'11", 148-pound veteran detective stopped dead in his tracks, staring down at the blindingly bright snow beneath him. Donnie was seemingly frozen in memory. Baker soon passed him, producing a little wind which would cause some of Donnie's hair to flip forward onto his forehead.

"Something wrong Marks?" Baker said triumphantly, holding onto the handle near the door of the helicopter. "Need to catch your breath?"

Donnie snapped out of it, looking up at Baker and the SHD agents already inside the helicopter. "No… I just thought I left something…" Donnie recuperated, jogging the final few feet towards the helicopter.

"You okay man?" A white, female SHD agent asked, an MP7 slung over her shoulder.

"Yeah, you look like you saw the fucking devil." A black, male agent chimed in, his M700 sitting tightly between his legs. "Last time I made that face, I had learned my wife was pregnant."

Louis held out his hand, with Donnie reluctantly taking it. Pushing himself up via the bottom railings, he boarded the helicopter, taking up a thin space next to Chang. Baker was standing up in front of the path leading to the cockpit.

"We good?" The JTF pilot yelled, doing a final check on all instruments.

"Get her going!" Donnie yelled, the rotors of the helicopter beginning to spin.

"Roger that," The pilot spoke into his headset. "JTF-68 to Hudson, we are Oscar mike towards Wall Street. ETA around 20 minutes."

The helicopter lifted off, causing Donnie to flinch. As their elevation rapidly increased, so did Donnie's anxiety. Looking to his left, he saw Louis doing something with his watch. A hologram suddenly emanated from it, showing some sort of inventory menu.

"Pretty fancy tech you got there," Donnie stared at the holographic menu. "All of you guys have these… things?"

All the agents nodded in agreement, and soon they were all looking at their inventory, their watches pulsating a bright orange color. Not wanting to disturb them any further, Donnie looked back to his right, seeing the city hundreds of feet below him. He flinched again.

"Do the doors close?" Donnie asked nervously, looking down at various rooftops.

"How the hell are we supposed to shoot out of them then?" The agent wielding the M700 chuckled. "The name's 'Reaper'." He pointed at the agent with the MP7. "That's Clark." And then he pointed at an agent sitting to the right of Louis, he wore a Shortbow baseball cap and was armed with a suppressed LVOA-C. "That's Jackal."

"I see you people are a fan of nicknames." Donnie remarked sarcastically. "There more of you?"

"There are around 126 active cells in New York State alone, half of which are located in this city. Each cell starts off with 4 individuals." Louis yelled over the loud sound of spinning rotors. "You do the math detective."

"That's over 250 of you people in NYC." Donnie blurted out, clearly startled by this fact. "Jesus Christ."

"Yeah, if the first wave fails, we got plans for a second, larger one." The SHD commander added, checking the ammunition in his Vector 45 ACP. "Hundreds of cells."

Donnie grimaced at the numbers, looking at Baker with a concerned expression.

Looking down, he saw Central Park. Thick concentrations of black smoke would hover above the park, burning bodies. JTF and CERA trucks would drop off the bodies by the dozen, and CERA body bags would line the snow-coated grass by the thousands.

"Fuckin' hell." Donnie said, looking at all the death. "This shit has really hit the fan…"

"That's why we were called in, detective." Louis patted the detective's shoulder. "We're gonna' end it."

 **JTF Rooftop FOB – Wall Street Sector**

 **10:05 AM**

"Wake up, Marks." Baker tapped Donnie's shoulder vigorously. "We're here."

"Really subtle Baker" Donnie snarled, stretching his back. "Real subtle."

Donnie hopped off the helicopter first, dust from the spinning rotors finding a way into his eye. Baker followed closely, ignoring the visceral cursing coming out of her partner's mouth.

The rooftop itself was a very active site. The helicopter sat on a makeshift helipad at the western edge of the roof, which was basically a white, rectangular tarp laid out across the roof with a large letter "H" in the center. To the front of the helicopter was a large communications mast, with satellite dishes vertically lining the structure. JTF national guard engineers worked at its bottom, wire-tapping LMB radio networks and maintaining contact with Camp Hudson. Other JTF personnel lingered on the roof, mostly snipers scouting the LMB outpost 2000 feet north of their position. The roof access stairwell was directly behind the mast, a JTF soldier guarding the door.

Marks looked over the folder. "Horton says we gotta' meet with some Colonel Hucks. He has the mission details."

"Sounds good," Baker said, looking over at the distant rooftops. Snow was lightly falling on the broken city. The bright light from the morning sun provided a stark contrast to the depression exhibited by the troops stationed here. Wall Street had been hit especially hard by the virus, as it is one of the main financial sectors of the city and of the nation. Amherst had been especially keen about his placement of bills there, thinking that Wall Street was the true nexus of evil and greed in America. If you can stop the economic heart of a country, killing it would be a relatively simple task.

Once the duo arrived at the stairwell, the JTF guard asked for identification, his lime reflective vest shimmering in the New York sun. He wore the standard NYCP officer uniform underneath. The name on his ID read: "Nathan Anderson." It sounded quite familiar to Donnie.

Getting out his newly issued JTF identification card, he showed it to the weary ex-police officer.

"You're on Laila's detail, right?" The officer commented, straightening his lime helmet. "Hucks is waiting for you downstairs, your agent buddies arrived around three minutes earlier."

"Thanks officer," Donnie patted his shoulder as he entered through the door. "You have a good day, alright?"

Going down the stairs, he turned to Baker.

"Look, whatever you do, don't let your guard down around those Division types." Donnie whispered, turning the corner and continuing down the stairwell. "Especially that Louis character, something about him doesn't sit right with me."

"Marks that's just your damn paranoia talking." Baker whispered back, pocketing her JTF ID. "Give em' a chance."

Once they arrived at the desired floor, Donnie opened the door to the command center, allowing Baker to enter first with a slight smile. Entering the room, he could feel the tension emanating from the personnel inside. Apparently, the situation had become dire. Commander Hucks was easily discernable from the rest of JTF in the room. He was an extremely tall, muscular figure, and the back of his JTF vest read the word: "District Commander." Louis and his team were at the end of the room, a gigantic holographic map of Midtown Manhattan shining from Reaper's watch.

"By God…" Donnie beamed, noticing who the negotiator was. "Why if it isn't the great Laila Hummings. Come here."

Donnie pulled her into a hug. The two had been best friends during their time at the academy. Donnie had narrowly beat her for the top rank in their class. Both had first served in precinct 15th before Laila left to join ESU's Hostage Rescue negotiation team. They still kept in touch via emails.

"Nice to hear from you while not staring at a computer screen." Laila joked, looking up at the detective. "I heard about Charlie. I'm so sorry, Donnie. I'm sure he was a good guy."

"He was one of the best," Donnie looked down for a moment, remembering the events that occurred on that fateful day. "He died doing what he loved."

"Now's not the time for mourning, detective." Hucks interrupted, staring down at the mess of maps, tablets, and laptops on the table and then looking back up at the two detectives. "I already briefed your Division pals, but here's the current situation: The LMB have exercised extreme aggression recently with both civilians and JTF personnel in the surrounding area. We have reports of four separate engagements with their soldiers, with three of our men WIA and one MIA. After conducting a roll call, we found one of the CERA aid workers missing, Trenton Hargraves, 23. Around 3 days ago, we attempted to contact their leader, some PE teacher looking piece of shit named Charles Bliss. Got a big long message from them which basically said: "Fuck off" and now Hudson's telling us to put a lid on the situation before it becomes a real problem."

"Sounds rough," Donnie realized the magnitude of the situation. The JTF are already being swamped by armed gangs of looters, the Dollar Flu, and a series of riots at Rikers. If we add in heavily armed, organized mercenaries fresh out of Iraq to our long list of problems, our grip on Manhattan would collapse within days. "So they wanted to talk?" Donnie asked fiddling with a pen on the table.

"Yeah, one of their scouts arrived at our checkpoint at 22nd and 5th bearing a message from some Lieutenant named 'Winters'. Said they wanted to make a few conditions clear before they wanted to resume 'joint ops' and release a 'prisoner'."

"So that's where Laila comes in?" Donnie looked at Laila, she was going over some prompts on her clipboard.

"Correct." Hucks answered, double-checking the mission details. "The meeting starts in five hours. I expect your team prepped and ready to go in three."

"You got it commander," Donnie assured, "We got it covered." He then proceeded to walk towards the group of Division agents.

Louis was sitting on a CERA crate messing with some small, spherical device. It'd make beeping sounds as it jumped from the agent's left palm to his right. Clark was sitting down against the crate, her beanie pulled over her eyes to block the light as she slept. Reaper was aiming a pistol-launcher type of weapon, the barrel of which had a relatively large radius for a gun.

Looking to his right, Jackal was still looking at the holographic map. Curious, the detective walked over, examining the vast hologram stretched out across the floor. Holding his hand out into one of the buildings on the map, he marveled at the way the orange particles distorted and moved out of his way.

"They never gave us this kind of tech," Donnie commented, looking at the map. "I don't even think the army has this shit."

"Yeah, well," The agent was busy fiddling with his inventory. "The units called in when the shit hits the fan need a technological advantage over any threat they come across. I'd imagine if the army were to stage a coup, we would still maintain that advantage due, as these technologies are highly classified."

"Huh, I see," Donnie said, distressed at the sheer power of these agents. "You guys are the real deal…"

 **JTF Checkpoint IL-2**

 **3:45 PM**

Donnie swung the door of the Humvee open. The snow had stopped falling, and he could see the thick layer of snow on the ground had already begun to melt. He looked around at the checkpoint.

There was an elevated platform over the road leading north, three JTF national guardsmen were manning it, their postures signaling how tense they were. The platform itself was a large, metal structure, with signs saying "Checkpoint, stay left" and "Infection Check: Roll Down Window".

"They're late." Laila commented on the lack of LMB presence. "For well-trained PMCs, they don't seem so punctual."

Donnie stiffened as he felt a sudden tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he saw Louis, pointing to his ear.

"Marks turn your earpiece on," He suggested. "Makes everything go much more smoothly."

"Yeah, just didn't work at first," The detective retorted, activating his ear comm. "Damn technology can be such a bitch."

Suddenly the ground began to vibrate as an LMB APC thunders down the empty road towards the checkpoint. Its winter camouflage glistened in the surrounding snow, and the LMB logo of the bird skull shined in its bold red and black color. Two additional specialist squads of LMB trailed behind it, intimidating the small JTF contingent. The APC stopped around 50 feet in front of the northern platform, the large turret aimed directly at Donnie and the SHD squad.

"Where's Sergeant Trenton Hargraves?" Laila spoke into the loudspeaker, her voice booming across the intersection. "We need to see him alive before we talk about anything else."

The APC did nothing, nor did any of the LMB mercenaries say anything. They stood there, eyeing down the JTF soldiers.

"Where. Is. Hargraves?" Laila repeated into her loudspeaker.

The door on the back of the APC fell, revealing a figure in a JTF uniform, a black trash bag over his head. Pushing him forward was Charlies Bliss himself. His glasses dampened his intimidating, ruthless nature. And his bald head resembled that of Donnie's 5th grade math teacher. Following Bliss were two gigantic LMB heavy soldiers, both wielding massive riot shields. Bliss stopped the POW in the middle of the checkpoint, kicking him down so he was on his knees.

"So that's what this little degenerate's name is… huh." Bliss spoke in an emotionless voice. "We just decided to call him a scumbag." The colonel drew his pistol, aiming at the back of the captive JTF officer. "And he should be treated as such." The LMB forces aimed their weapons at the checkpoint.

Donnie and his team, and the rest of the JTF personnel in the area aimed their weapons back at the LMB force. The street grew quiet, except for a soft wind that blew by. The sound of stray dogs also echoed in the distance.

"How about we all calm down!" Laila yelled, her voice cracking slightly. "Bliss, what are your demands?"

"Your weak, soft tactics are destroying this city." Bliss explained, still aiming the gun at the feeble captive. "This city can only be saved under the rule of an iron fist. That is why I request that all JTF forces in Manhattan withdraw immediately and allow the LMB to establish a sovereign state."

"I'm afraid… we can't do that, Bliss." Laila's hands were tied. "We have an email from your superiors ordering you to stand down. Look how about-"

"You know what…" A gunshot rang out, and the JTF captive's body fell flat onto the ground, a pool of blood soon accumulating underneath his head. "I'm tired of talking." The two heavies moved to cover him with their large shields.

"Son of a Bitch!" Donnie opened fire at Bliss, his shot being absorbed into a heavy's black shield.

Noticing the turret of the APC turning towards Donnie, Louis sprinted towards the detective, tackling him to the ground behind a barrier. The APC fired, the round exploding several feet behind them, dust and dirt raining down. Soon bullets would whiz by overhead, and the screams of wounded JTF would echo in Donnie's ears.

"Flash going out!" Reaper screamed into his comm.

A trail of vapor would shoot out of the third floor of a nearby building, landing in the biggest concentration of LMB and exploding. Several LMB would stumble back, wiping their eyes, dazed. Louis stood up, opening fire on the stunned mercenaries. Once Bliss and his guard were inside the armored vehicle, it'd turn around and drive in the opposite direction, leaving the specialist squads fighting the JTF.

JTF soldiers would open fire from cover, pinning down several more LMB. A more senior squad of national guardsmen would rally, moving forward towards cover with tactical precision, killing several traitor mercenaries in the process. Soon Donnie would stand up along with Baker, firing at the now outnumbered LMB troops.

"To the last man, you JTF fucks!" The specialist squad leader would yell, attempting to boost the morale of his weary men.

Donnie peeked out of cover, seeing a more forward cover position. Soon he was making a mad dash towards it, bullets ricocheting off the ground near him. He slid into the cover with Baker following close behind. Standing up, he fired several shots, nicking an LMB rifleman in the neck causing him to fall backwards onto the cold, hard pavement. A grenade exploded several feet to the right of Donnie, sending several JTF soldiers flying back dead or maimed. A JTF Police Officer would squirm on the ground screaming, his right leg 5 feet away from his body.

"Seeker out!" Louis yelled into his comms, deploying the spherical device Donnie had seen earlier.

It'd roll around the barriers and the corpses towards the LMB position, eventually exploding, the air around it riddled with smaller, individual explosions. Several LMB bodies would literally fly out of cover, their faces and torsos mangled up. Those who survived such an explosion were now screaming in agony.

The LMB numbers were dwindling, and soon the JTF had encircled the last remaining mercenaries. In a matter of minutes, the remaining LMB would surrender, putting their hands up.

Donnie looked around at the carnage. CERA medics rushed out of cover, and were tending wounded and screaming soldiers, enemy or not. He counted around 20 corpses, eight from the JTF. But what startled Donnie the most was the Division agents. They were _looting_ the LMB corpses for weapons and armor, turning and rummaging through their bodies with no respect to the human being.

Donnie looked around for Laila, finding her kneeling down with her hands over her mouth, staring at the corpse of a JTF soldier.

"You okay?" Donnie asked, putting his arm around her neck in a consoling fashion.

"It's just-.. it- I knew this guy…" Laila would stutter, soon beginning to cry. "Th-This is.. it's it- it's all some d-dream.. right…?

Donnie would shake his head, looking down on the corpse. The ID read: "Grey Martin", and there was a large blood stain in the center of his chest, accompanied by a hole.

"It's gonna' be alright…" Donnie would pull her closer, both looking at the corpse. "It'll be over soon… I promise. We could all go home…"

 **And that's that! In the next chapter, we'll see Donnie and Baker be stationed in the Dark Zone… back when the JTF still patrolled the damn place. Please leave suggestions for future chapters!**


End file.
